


This Random Girl

by starwrite_er



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Finished
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-01-29 21:52:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12639918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starwrite_er/pseuds/starwrite_er
Summary: “How come the only one helping me out is this random girl?”The one and only Steve Harrington gestures in the direction of Max and I. At my unexpected appearance, he does a double take. “These random girls,” He corrects himself, confused. “I thought there was only one?”





	1. Chapter 1

“Hey, kid, what are you doing?” I call out. The redheaded girl whips around, the sheet of metal she was dragging falling over as she lets go.

“Uh,” She hesitates, peering around the side of the abandoned bus before turning her attention back to me, steeling her gaze. “What are _you_ doing?”

I raise an eyebrow, crossing my arms as I give her a look. “I asked you first.”

She shrugs. “My friend told me a story and said he had proof.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t explain why you’re dragging around scrap metal, kiddo.” I mean, I don’t really have a reason for questioning her, but I’d just been wandering around and stumbled upon this place. It’s not like there’s much else going on.

She rolls her eyes, returning to her prior task. In a more exasperated manner than her, I roll my eyes as I watch her struggle before jogging over. She stares at me as I lift the sheet of metal, taking most of the weight off her. When she doesn’t keep walking, I gesture widely. “Lead the way.”

We don’t need to walk far, it seems. “Hey, what’s your name?” I ask the girl. She glances momentarily at me, seeming almost suspicious.

“Max.” Is her simple answer.

“Cool. I’m Y/N.” I tell her my name in return.

As we prop the sheet of metal up against the rusting bus, a clang followed by a familiar voice announces the presence of someone else. “Hey! Dickheads!” It’s not directed at us, that I can tell. “How come the only one helping me out is this random girl?”

The one and only Steve Harrington gestures in the direction of Max and I. At my unexpected appearance, he does a double take. “These random _girls_ ,” He corrects himself, confused. “I thought there was only one?”

He shakes his head, brushing off my presence.

“We lose light in forty minutes. Let’s go,” He continues, directing his scolding towards two young boys. When they don’t move, also apparently taken aback by my being here, he raises his voice a bit. “Let’s go, I said!” This earns a chorus of unenthusiastic complaints from the two boys he was addressing as they follow him.

“Steve Harrington, fancy seeing you here.” I say, grinning at the approaching guy as I prop my hands on my hips.

“Yeah. What the hell are you doing here, Y/N?” He questions, almost mirroring my stance.

“I was bored. Was walking around when I stumbled upon this little party,” I tell him. “What about you?”

As he opens his mouth to answer, the curly haired boy cuts him off. “Don’t.”

“Why not? She’s already helping.” Max interjects. I smile at her thankfully.

“Party rules. We don’t tell anyone.” He says resentfully, before adjusting his cap and moving on.

And so I let it go. For now.

“What are your plans for all of _this_?” I ask, gesturing to the growing pile of discarded metal.

“Reinforce the bus. You should leave.” Steve tells me, expression completely serious as he brush past. I exchange a look with Max, who simply shrugs. I sigh and head off in search of more scraps.

I notice a number of old tyres, and figure they could be put to use. I haul one to it’s side, and notice Max has followed me. Wordlessly, I push a tyre in her direction, and we get to work rolling them back to the old bus.

“So, what’s their deal?” I ask the younger girl, nodding in the direction of the other two middle-schoolers.

“Dunno. They kinda stalked me when I arrived in Hawkins. Dustin was nice, but Lucas told me their ‘story’ and now he’s all pissy.” She briefs me. I hum in acknowledgement.

“What was the story?” I push a little harder for details. “Also, they _stalked_ you?”

“I just moved here. I beat their high score at the arcade,” She smiles proudly at me, and I chuckle. Her face falls emotionless again. “I don’t think I should tell you what Lucas told me, though.”

I nod, understanding. “I won’t pry then.”

The next few trips we make in silence.

At some point, Max discovers a ladder, giving us both a way onto the roof of the bus and a plan.

“You sure you got it?” I question, straining under the weight of the tyre as we hoist it onto the roof. “I’d kinda prefer you not drop it on me.”

“I said I’ve got it!” She yells back. I look up to see it disappear over the side of the bus, rolling my shoulders to release the tension. I can feel eyes on me. Glancing out of the corner of my eye, I see Dustin and Lucas.

“Why are you helping us?” Lucas asks.

“I’ve got nothing better to do.” I shrug.

Behind us comes the sound of liquid splashing against the ground. Having doused a pile of questionable meat, Steve brings the trail of gasoline to the doors of the bus.

I push away the nervous knots in my stomach. Nothing about this is normal. I should know what I’m getting myself into.

Nonetheless, I don’t ask questions when I lock eyes with Steve. Instead, I clench my jaw and keep my mouth shut.

And as time marches on and the daylight fades to black, I realise there isn’t anything quite as unnerving as sitting in a decrepit junkyard at night, surrounded by mere acquaintances as you wait for what is unknown only to you.

We wait in silence, broken only by the faint hoots of owls and the clicking of Steve’s lighter.

I lean back, and continue to wait.

“So you really fought one of these things before?” Max asks Steve, attempting a conversation. Her questions gets my attention. He nods. “And you’re, like, totally, one hundred percent sure it wasn’t a bear?”

“Shit, don’t be an idiot, okay? It wasn’t a bear.” I raise a brow at Dustin’s annoyed words. “Why are you even here if you don’t believe us? Just go home.”

Max stares at him.

“Geez, someone’s cranky. Past your bedtime?” She mutters, standing to climb the ladder. She’s hiding it, but she’s hurt.

Dustin resumes his pacing.

“That’s good. Just show her you don’t care.” Steve says approvingly. I shoot him a glare.

“I don’t,” Is Dustin’s response. A pause. “Why are you winking, Steve? Stop.”

Steve shrugs off the comment, playing with the lighter again. I watch him for a moment, deciding to put in my own two-cents.

“No offence, Harrington, but that’s some kinda shitty advice,” I speak up for the first time since we began our wait. I turn to Dustin. “If you like someone, you should be making sure they know you care.”

I rest my head back against the wall of the bus. I don’t expect a reply. I don’t get one.

_Click. Fwish. Click._

_Click. Fwish. Click._

_Click. Fwish. Click._

_Click. Fwish. Click._

_Click. Fwish._

_Roar._

My eyes snap open, meeting Steve’s opposite me.

_Click._

“What the fuck was that?” I ask, scrambling to my feet. The noise didn’t sound like anything I’ve ever heard before. Hell, it sounded like something straight out of that Jurassic Park movie that came out last year. Dustin and Steve whip around, ignoring me as they look out of the small cracks in the metal covering the windows.

“You see him?” Dustin asks.

“No.” Steve responds.

“Lucas, what’s going on?” Dustin calls up to the other boy. I join them by the window, peering out to catch a glimpse of whatever it is they keep talking about.

“Hold on,” Lucas shouts back. Moments pass before calls out again, his voice breaking at moments. “I’ve got eyes! Ten o’clock! Te-ten o’clock!”

“There.” Steve points at something. I follow his line of sight, watching as something emerges from the thick fog.

“What the fuck is that?” I swallow thickly, the murk obstructing our view.

“What’s he doing?” Dustin questions.

“I don’t know,” Steve replies. “He’s not taking the bait. Why is he not taking the bait?”

“Maybe he’s not hungry?” Dustin suggests.

“Maybe he’s sick of cow.” There’s something in the tone of Steve’s voice that puts me on edge. This feeling is reinforced as he takes a step back from the window, contemplating something.

“Steve? Steve, what are you doing? Steve?” Dustin sounds nervous.

“Just get ready.” He tells Dustin, tossing him the lighter as he holds a baseball bat in the other hand. _Why_ Steve even _has_ a baseball bat with a few dozen nails driven into it is beyond me, but it’s another question I doubt I’d get an answer to.

“Listen, I’ve been left in the dark as to what’s going on at the moment, but even I can tell this is a pretty shit idea,” I say, placing my hand on Steve’s chest to get him to pause for a moment. He opens his mouth, likely to argue, but I continue before he can speak. “I’m not going to stop you. Just, try not to get hurt, okay?”

He nods, and I let him go.

The creak of the door sliding open is almost painful.

I watch through the cracks as Steve whistles, softly swinging the bat from side to side, urging the strange animal to take the bait.

The ladder creaks behind me. “What is he doing?” It’s Max.

“Expanding the menu.” Dustin answers. I bite my lip, anxious.

“He’s insane.”

“He’s awesome.”

The eerie atmosphere is broken by a panicked yell from Lucas, causing my heart to drop. “Steve! Watch out! Three o’clock! Three o’clock!”

Shit.

Dustin pulls open the door of the bus, shouting. “Steve! Abort! Abort!”

The teen doesn’t get the chance to return to the safety of the bus. Looking like a fanged flower bud, the creature’s face opens up and it charges at him.

I feel sick at the sight of Steve dodging out of the way, the growls and screeches of these monsters filling the night.

The group of us scream at Steve to hurry, watching helplessly at he swings his bat at the beasts. Steve sprints back towards the bus, the creatures hot on his heels. I pull him in as someone swiftly slides close the door, the monsters slamming against it.

Everyone is yelling, a clawed limb bursting through the metal as the bus shakes. Overcome by adrenaline, I barely register the vague pain in my leg as we scramble away from the door. On one end of the bus, Steve is utilising the bat, while on the other side Dustin is desperately pleading for his friends to pick up through a walkie-talkie. Lucas’s previous reassurances that they can’t get in are lost on me as I remember our lookout post. As I glance up the ladder, another bang rocks the bus.

Silence falls across us as we watch with bated breath, every step this creature takes echoing throughout the vehicle and denting the roof. I notice Max’s closer position in relation to the ladder and protectively push her behind me, just as a slimy, clawed appendage rests on the top rung.

It shows it’s face, opening up and giving a low, threatening growl.

Max screams.

“Nope!” I jerk the ladder upwards, catching the creature’s leg and neck and shoving it backwards. Steve appears by me, wielding the baseball bat as the monster bounds back towards the hatch, screeching, enraged.

It catches itself at the last moment, something pulling it’s attention away from us. The bus shakes once more as the beasts cease their assault, and suddenly their roars are nothing but an unnerving, distant noise.

The silence is painstaking.

Slowly and cautiously, we take steps outside, too scared and confused to make any sound.

They’re gone.

“What happened?” Lucas voices the question we were all asking.

“I don’t know.” Max murmurs.

“Did Steve scare them away?” Dustin tries.

“No. No way,” Steve says, certain of what he’s saying. He turns to face us, bat propped up on his shoulder. “They’re going somewhere.”

I take a deep breath, rubbing my face as I process what just happened.

“You all okay?” I ask the group, regaining my composure. They nod and hum in response. “Good, good.”

I cast my gaze downward and notice something. “Oh, shit.” I mumble at the sight of a gash on the side of my left calf. That’s what the pain was - that one creature that almost broke through the door must have caught my leg.

I groan in discontent at the inconvenience of it as I crouch to get a better look at it. Pulling out a torch, Steve shines a light on the wound. It looks like the thing ripped through my jeans, which sucks, but luckily the cut itself doesn’t seem too serious.

“Hey, you good?” Steve asks me, crouched down to my level as he rifles through his bag for something.

“Eh, I’ll live.” I shrug, cracking a weak smile. He apparently packed a first aid kit, since he passes me a bandage and a tiny thing of disinfectant.

“It’s all I’ve got with me.” He says, and I smile gratefully at him.

I make quick, albeit messy work of fixing my leg up best I can with what I’ve got. It hurts like a bitch, but there are more important matters to attend to. “That’s gonna leave an awesome scar.” Dustin grins as I stand back up.

“Glad I got something out of it,” I joke, before turning my attention to more serious matters.

I shine my light around the group, brow furrowed slightly. “Okay, I think you all owe me an explanation.”


	2. Chapter 2

While I had been the one to demand an explanation, I was also the one to insist we walk and talk, wanting desperately to find where the creatures - demogorgons, I’d been told - had gone. I mean, I’d gotten this far roped into it all, I might as well see it through to the end.

“Honestly, your story kinda clears a lot of stuff up. It’s all true?” I speak up as the group finishes their tale, to which they all respond affirmative. If I hadn’t just experienced a demogorgon attack first hand, I probably would find it hard to believe. Swallowing thickly, I continue. “So Barbara’s really... _gone_?”

“Yeah.” Steve answers my question shortly.

“Ah, shit...” I cast my gaze ahead as we proceed to navigate the forest in silence. I wasn’t particularly close with Barb, but I’d considered her a friend, and finding out the truth hurt. God, her poor parents don’t even know...

Through the thinning trees ahead, the silhouette of a building can be seen against the night sky. The numerous windows are dark, save for the pulsing lights of an alarm. Something’s wrong.

“Hello?” A voice calls out from ahead. We all hesitate for a moment but push on to see who it is. “Who’s there? _Who’s there_?”

We emerge from the woods, the beams from our flashlights falling on a familiar pair.

“ _Steve_?” Nancy and Jonathan question in unison, having not expected us at all. “ _Y/N_?”

“Nancy?” Steve is equally as confused.

“Jonathan?” As is Dustin.

“What are you doing here?” Nancy and I happen to ask simultaneously, walking towards one another.

“We’re looking for Mike and Will.” She explains as our two groups meet in the middle.

“They’re not in there, are they?” Dustin asks.

“We’re not sure.” Nancy says, glancing nervously at Jonathan.

“Why?” Jonathan continues.

Answering his question, a chorus of roars and screeches emits from the building. A moment of processing passes, and our bickering is ceaseless as we try to put our stories together.

Minutes of this pass, until Nancy interrupts us. “The power’s back.” Our agitated chatter goes silent as we make a beeline for the closed gate. Jonathan makes a move towards the control panel, impatiently pressing the buttons but the gate fails to open.

Dustin pushes in and takes his role as the rest of us wait anxiously, ignoring the quiet arguing of Jonathan and Dustin.

More painstaking moments pass, until with a buzz, the gate slides opening. “Hey, I got it!” Dustin announces. Jonathan pushes past him, getting in the car with Nancy.

They waste no time, driving off and leaving us with only a shout of “Wait here!”

A small buzz of complaint rises from the rest of us at this, but they’re already gone. With a huff, I lean back against the wall of the guard post, taking the weight off of my injured leg. It’s clear I’m not the only one feeling impatient as the kids pace about and Steve messes with a torch.

There’s nothing to inform us of what’s happening down at this apparent ‘lab’, not until Max breaks the silence. “Guys?” We look up, following her line of sight to see two cars driving furiously towards us, honking all the way.

We duck out of the way as Jonathan’s car hurtles on past us. The police chief is hot on his heels, but he grinds to a halt, opening the door for us with a shout. “Let’s go!”

We pile in, Steve and I pushing the younger ones in first before he makes sure I get in before him. The car is already pulling away as Steve slams the door shut, the wheels screeching as we distance ourselves from the building.

“What happened?” I question urgently.

“Nothing good.” Is all I receive as an answer.

The rest of the drive is quiet.

Following Jonathan’s car, we arrive at what I realise is the Byers’ household. Once inside, everyone seems to go their own way.

Jonathan whispers apologies to his unconscious brother as Nancy comforts him. Chief Hopper speaks angry, forceful words to whoever is on the other end of the telephone line; something about needing reinforcements, something about not knowing how many people survived. The kids sit around the kitchen table, attention divided between their friend on the couch and the police chief. Steve watched Nancy and Jonathan interact for a couple moments before moving away, an attempt to spare himself any unnecessary pain after the events of a certain halloween party everyone knew about. I haven’t seen Ms Byers. I find myself in the kitchen, leaning back against the wall as I sit on the floor.

Nancy’s brother, Mike, shouts at Hopper, but his argument is quickly - and understandably - shut down. The man walks away, presumably to where Ms Byers is, leaving us with our thoughts.

My gaze rests on each of the people in the room with me, lingering slightly longer on Steve where he stands by the sink, bathed in the moonlight coming through the window. I look away.

Eventually, Mike stands up, returning with a blue cube. “Did you guys know that Bob was the original founder of Hawkins AV?” He asks his friends. “He petitioned the school to start it and everything, then he had a fundraiser for equipment. Mr Clarke learned everything from him. Pretty awesome, right?”

The others at the table murmur in agreement as Mike continues. “We can’t let him die in vain.”

I frown and look away. The other side of the story had been briefly explained to us: from the system of tunnels, to the demogorgons’ trap, to the passing of Bob Newby. I didn’t know who Bob was, but he was a good enough guy for Ms Byers, and he inspired these kids, so his death has still left me with a heavy heart.

“What do you want to do, Mike? The Chief’s right on this. We can’t stop those demo-dogs on our own.” Dustin raises his voice, agitated.

“Demo-dogs?” Max raises a brow. Dustin looks at her, proceeding to almost patronisingly explaining the word until she backs off.

“I mean, when it was just Dart, maybe...” Dustin trails off.

“But there’s an army now.” Lucas finishes. Something about this seems to resonate with Mike.

“His army.” You can practically see the cogs turning in his mind.

“What do you mean?” Steve questions.

“His army! Maybe if we can stop him, we can stop his army, too!” Mike announces his idea. Though still underdeveloped, everyone recognises it’s the best bet we’ve got, and quickly move away from the kitchen.

“C’mon.” Steve takes my hand, helping me to my feet and guiding me after the rest of the kids.

In what I assume is Will’s room, everyone’s voices chime in as Mike further explains his theory.

“The shadow monster...”

“It got Will that day on the field. The doctor said it was like a virus; it infected him.”

“And so this virus, it’s connecting him to the tunnels?”

“To the tunnels, monsters, the Upside Down, _everything_.”

“Whoa, okay, slow down.”

“Okay, so, the shadow monster’s inside everything, and if the vines feel something like pain, then so does Will.”

“And so does Dart.”

“Yeah, like what Mr Clarke taught us. The hive mind.”

“Hive mind?” Steve interjects.

“A collective consciousness.” I input.

“It’s a super-organism.” Dustin expands on my answer.

“This is the thing that controls everything; this is the brain.” Mike finalises, pointing at a sketch.

“Like the Mind-Flayer.” Dustin realises. I exchange a look with Steve, not knowing what the hell a ‘Mind-Flayer’ is.

Whatever it is, it sounds like a good enough analogy, so everyone is quickly gathered and standing around the kitchen table as the situation is explained.

With a thick manual at his finger tips, Dustin speedily sets about telling us all what a ‘Mind-Flayer’ is. Something about enslaving races and psionic powers. Throughout, Hopper interjects pessimistically and Dustin retorts defensively.

“What does it want?” Nancy questions, trying to work with the kid on this.

“To conquer us, basically. It believes it’s a master race.” Dustin answers.

“Oh, like the Germans.” Steve says.

“You mean the Nazis?” I say, giving the guy a look.

“Uh, yeah, yeah, the Nazis.” Steve stumbles over his words. Dustin, bless him, tries his best to run with Steve’s attempt at an analogy, and his other ‘party members’ join in the explanation.

“Then, if we kill it...” Nancy says, picking up the tome.

“We kill everything it controls.” Mike finishes.

As it turns out, the Mind-Flayer analogy worked well, except it did nothing to help us understand how to stop what we’re up against, resulting in another dispute between Hopper and the kids.

“We know it’s already killed everyone in that lab-“ Mike’s point is interrupted.

“And injured Y/N.” Max pipes up. My eyes widen, not prepared to be brought into the argument.

“Not _badly_.” I try to dismiss it, everyone’s eyes on me. Steve rests a hand on my shoulder, almost reassuringly.

Before the debate can continue, Ms Byers appears before us, quickly quieting everyone. “They’re right. We have to kill it.” As distraught as she looks at this moment, there’s determination in her eyes. “I _want_ to kill it.”

“Me too, Joyce, but we don’t exactly know what we’re up against.” Hopper says to the woman, trying to settle her.

“No, but he does.” Mike points out, his eyes on Will.

And so we come up with a plan.

As everyone disperses, I take a seat at the table, watching Steve murmuring something to Ms Byers.

The sound of someone clearing their throat gains my attention. I look up to see Nancy standing over me.

“Can I sit?” She asks, and I gesture freely to the chair beside me. She smiles as she takes a seat. “I feel like it’s been a while since we last talked.”

“We go barely a week without speaking and the world goes to shit. I guess the universe wants us to stay good friends.” I joke, to which she laughs softly. A moment of silence passes, but it’s not uncomfortable.

“How did you end up here?” She asks.

“I stumbled across them trying to lure some creature using a beef and gasoline mix. I had nothing better to do, so I stuck around.” I give her a quick summary, and she shoots me a smile.

“Of course you would,” She laughs. Looking down at the table, she continues. “I guess I did the same thing a year ago.”

“Steve mentioned. Something about you and Jonathan laying a pretty effective trap?” I say.

“Uh, yeah. He told you that?” She seems surprised he would say anything.

“None of them wanted to tell me anything, but I mean, after I got nicked by one of those things, I kinda deserved an explanation.” I clear things up. Nancy nods slowly.

Speak of the devil, here comes Steve now.

“Hi, Nancy.”

“Hi.”

The exchange is vaguely awkward.

“Uh, Y/N, I got these from Joyce. Y’know, for your leg.” He says, placing a couple objects on the table.

“Oh, thanks.” I smile at him before turning my attention to the items. A new bandage, more disinfectant, and a needle and thread.

Sounds good to me.

“I’m gonna go help Hopper.” Steve says after a moment of standing idly by, leaving Nancy and I alone.

“That was... nice of him,” Nancy says. I hum in agreement, wiggling the bloodied leg of my jeans up and taking off the temporary bandage. “How did it happen?”

“A demodog sorta caught my leg when it trying to get through out defences. It’s really not that bad.” I tell her. I apply the disinfectant, gritting my teeth at the sting.

“It _looks_ bad.” Nancy inspects the cut.

“Christ, it’s probably gonna look worse once I’m done with this.” I say, looking at the curved needle and thin thread unenthusiastically.

“Do you want me to do it?” Nancy offers sympathetically. I shake my head stubbornly, mentally preparing myself.

“So, uh, what have you been - _ow, shit_ \- what have you been doing - _holy shit_ \- these, uh, these past couple of days?” I try making conversation in an attempt to distract myself from the pain.

“I went with Jonathan to try and expose the truth of Hawkins Lab.” She says shortly.

“Shit, that’s - _ow, fuck_ \- that’s what you’ve been doing?” I inquire. “Rumours have been flying, saying that - _ugh, damn_ \- that you’re having a fling with Jonathan.”

Nancy’s quiet.

I look up from where I’m giving myself sutures, wide eyed at Nancy’s silent confession. It’s enough to genuinely draw my attention away from the pulsing pain of the stitches and the bizarre sensation of pulling thread through freshly poked holes in my flesh.

“Steve’s a good guy, I just...” She trails off, and I almost pity her. Almost.

“From what I’ve heard, you broke things off in a pretty cruel way. You should at least give him an apology before going with Jonathan,” I give her my advice, hissing as I return to the task at hand. “ _Jesus fucking christ_ , this hurts like a bitch.”

“Holy shit, Y/N’s stitching herself up.” Dustin announces to everyone as he walks past with Lucas, pausing mid stride to watch. Max peers around the corner, wide-eyed.

“Don’t you have a job to do?” I point out, and the two boys pout and continue on their way.

“That’s badass.” Max says, walking in with Mike. At closer inspection of the process, she pulls a kind of grossed out face.

“I should go help.” Nancy stands. I nod in understanding, and she leaves.

The two kids rifle under the kitchen sink, looking for anything they could use. It’s quiet, save for my muttered cursing, until I’ve just about finished.

Max speaks up, talking to Mike about someone called El. He replies sounding resentful, and I find myself feeling bad for both Max and him. When Mike leaves, I’ve finished bandaging my leg, and sigh as Max watches him go, her expression hiding her hurt.

“Come on, let’s go help them set this all up.” I say, helping her to her feet and to carry the various rolls of duck tape and paper.

Everyone is stuffed inside the shed out back, all helping to cover the walls, all helping to ensure Will won’t recognise where he is. There isn’t any conversation, just the sound of a staplers and tearing paper.

Steve, noticing us walk in, makes his way over. “Hey, how are you holding up?” He murmurs to me, taking a sheet from my arms and stapling it to the wall. My gaze flickers over to Nancy, who offers me a small smile.

“Yeah, I’m good, thanks.” I answer, smiling at Steve, and getting to work.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: lmao this fic was supposed to be 3 parts and an epilogue but it looks like it’s gonna be like 4 or 5 parts and an epilogue

How chaotic could a phone ringing be?

Apparently, very.

Everyone’s huddled in the living room, and the distant screams of the demodogs was unnerving to say the least, even with a number of people armed and ready.

“Where are they?” Max breaks the silence. Lucas is stood protectively in front of her, but I still reach out and take her hand as an act of comfort.

They’ve approached fast. Just outside the window we all face come the low growls. Something thuds, as though it had been thrown.

“What are they doing?” Nancy questions, aiming her gun towards the sound along with everyone else. I try to push down my nerves. Even the rustle of bushes barely in view adds to the tension.

There’s a snarl, and once again everyone whirls to face the noise. Moments later it’s followed by the monster screeching and whimpering, unlike anything we’ve heard before.

The sound dies.

The following seconds pass painstakingly slowly, the only thing I can hear in the silence being the beating of my heart.

That silence is replaced by panicked yells as something crashes through the window. I pull Max back as Steve pushes Dustin and I behind him, everyone’s eyes on the limp body of a demodog.

Hopper takes the first slow steps forward.

“Holy shit.” Dustin murmurs.

“Is it dead?” Max asks. To answer the question, Hopper nudges the lifeless corpse, receiving no reaction from the beast.

The door creaks, and our attention is snatched away from the demodog when the lock clicks open. Groaning, the door swings open.

In walks a young girl, hair slicked back and nose bleeding.

Our weapons are lowered, and the girl starts to cry.

It takes only a moment to realise that this girl must be the one Dustin and Lucas mentioned in their side of the story earlier. I watch their reunion, an amused smile spreading on my face as this ‘Eleven’ pokes at Dustin’s mouth, talking about his teeth. I feel a pang of pity as she brushes Max aside.

Eleven’s gaze lands on Steve and I, her steps faltering, and I notice her slight frown when she realises she doesn’t know who we are.

“I’m Y/N. This is Steve,” I introduce, offering a smile. “Thanks for helping us there.”

A faint smile plays on her face as she nods in acknowledgment before heading for Joyce.

As Eleven is lead away by Joyce, I turn my attention to Max. “Hey, c’mere for a moment,” I leave my place next to Steve to take the red headed girl to one side for a moment. “You look kinda bummed out. You okay?”

Max doesn’t say anything, but looks in the direction Eleven went and sighs. That’s all I need to know.

“Hey, don’t overthink her actions right now, okay? As far as I can tell, the kid’s been through some shit. She’s gonna need to take some time to get to trust a new face. Try not to take it personally.” I tell Max. The girl crosses her arms.

“That easy for _you_ to say, she actually noticed you.” Max says, frowning, disappointed.

“Max, think of it from her perspective,” I decide to try. “You’ve vanished for a year, knowing the few close friends you made think you’re gone, and when you get back, there’s suddenly this new girl in the group. She doesn’t know who you are; she’s probably insecure and scared that you’ve taken her place.”

“But I _haven’t_.” Max protests.

“She just met you, she doesn’t know that yet,” I smile reassuringly at the kid, and ruffle her hair. “Give it some time, I’m sure she’ll come around.”

She nods, taking my advice on board, and I let her go.

“You’re good with her.” Steve offhandedly mentions, appearing at my side.

“I could say the same for you and Dustin.” I say, nudging him gently. He chuckles, cracking a smile at me.

From the kitchen emits an interesting conversation. I exchange a look with Steve, and we follow the sound of Joyce’s questioning voice.

“Do you think if we got you back there, that you could close it?” Joyce asks Eleven, referencing the morse code message reading ‘CLOSEGATE’, the one we got from Will before the phone rang.

The group gathers around the table, discussing the demodogs, the tunnels, and the Mind-Flayer once again.

“I can do it.” Despite Hopper’s pessimism, Eleven speaks up.

“You’re not hearing me.” Hopper immediately tries to reason, paternal instincts kicking in.

“I’m hearing you. I can do it.” Eleven repeats, reassuring.

“Even if El can, there’s still another problem,” Mike interjects. “If the brain dies, the body dies.”

“I thought that was the whole point?” Max says, confused. I frown, realising what Mike is talking about.

“It is, but if we’re really right about this, I mean, if El closes the gate and kills the Mind-Flayer’s army...” The boy trails off.

“Will’s a part of that army.” Lucas speaks up, reinforcing my thoughts.

“Closing the gate will kill him.” Mike says.

Within minutes, Will is being carried out of the house and laid in Jonathan’s car with a plan to be rid of the ‘virus’ connecting the youngest Byers boy to the Mind-Flayer.

As Jonathan, Joyce, Hopper, and Eleven prepare to leave, Steve and Nancy go to find anything to warm Will up, leaving me pacing as I watch the kids. I pause momentarily, sympathetic as Mike worries over Eleven’s departure.

Those of us that remain look on, a feeling of anxiousness hanging over us as we watch out friends drive away.

I don’t question why Nancy goes with them.

It’s unpleasant, being left behind to sweep up shattered glass with no way to help those that are going out and risking their lives. In the kitchen, Steve and Dustin are preoccupied shoving the demodog carcass into the fridge, while Lucas, Max and I clear up the mess it left behind.

“Mike, would you just stop already?” Lucas addresses Mike, reaching the breaking point with his pacing.

“You weren’t in there, okay, Lucas? That lab is swarming with hundreds of those dogs.” Mike snaps back.

“The chief will take care of her!” Lucas reasons.

“Like she needs protection.” Max mumbles sarcastically.

“Look, dude, a coach calls a play in a game, bottom line, you execute it, alright?” Steve steps in, trying to diffuse the situation as he cleans his hands with an old dishcloth.

“Okay, first of all, this isn’t some stupid sports game,” Mike instantly retorts. “And second, we’re not even in the game, we’re on the _bench_.”

“Right- So- My point is...” Steve stumbles over his words, and I have to bite my cheek to stop myself from laughing at his attempts to bring himself back while the kids watch him expectantly. “Right, yeah, we’re on the bench, so, uh, there’s nothing we can do.” He drapes the cloth over his shoulder in defeat.

“That’s not entirely true,” Dustin negates Steve’s point. Steve turns to Dustin, and I can practically hear the sirens going off in his pretty-boy head. “I mean, these demodogs, they have a hive mind. When they ran away from the bus, they were called away.”

“So if we get their attention-“ Lucas starts.

“Maybe we can draw them away from the lab.” Max finishes.

“Clear a path to the gate.” Mike finalises.

“Yeah, and then we _all die_!” Steve raises his voice a little.

“Well, that’s one point of view.” Dustin says.

“No, that’s not a point of view, man, that’s a _fact_.” Steve shakes his head.

“How would we even do something big enough to get their attention entirely?” I question, a little part of me wanting to take action.

“I got it!” Mike announces, pushing past us to the map plastered on the walls. Looks like the kid came through again. “This is where the chief dug his hole; this is our way into the tunnel.” Mike moves to another section. “This, right here, this is like a hub. You got all the tunnels feeding in here, so maybe if we set this on fire-“

“Oh, yeah? That’s a _no_.” Steve declares, cutting Mike off.

“The Mind-Flayer would call away his army.” Dustin continues, ignoring Steve.

“They’d all come to stop us.”

“Then we circle back to the exit. By the time they realise we’re gone-“

“El would be at the gate.”

“Hey, hey, hey!” Steve shouts, clapping to get their attention. “This is not happening.”

“But-“

“No, no, no, no! No buts. I promised I’d keep you shitheads safe, and that’s exactly what I plan on doing,” Steve shuts them down, hands on hips. “We’re staying here, on the bench, and waiting for the starting team to do their job. Does everybody understand that?”

“This isn’t a stupid sports game.” Mike begins to argue.

“This isn’t a game of Dungeons and Dragons, either,” I cut in. “We don’t even have the equipment to go through with it. The risk is too high.”

“So, does everybody understand that?” Steve demands an answer, dishcloth in hand. “I need a yes.”

The kids mope in silence, but before anyone can continue the debate, a car revving outside grabs everyone’s attention. Max and Lucas run to the window to see who it is.

“It’s my brother,” Max says, paling at the sight of him coming down the road. “He can’t know I’m here. He’ll kill me - he’ll kill _us_.”

Steve and I share a look, coming to the same unspoken conclusion.

“Go, hide.” I tell the kids, pulling them away from the window as Steve goes on ahead.

I step outside as Billy Hargrove gets out of his car, and I’m suddenly enraged. _This_ is what Max has to put up with at home?

“Am I dreaming, or is that you, Harrington?” The jackass grins.

“Yeah, it’s me, don’t cream your pants.” Steve replies, stood at the bottom of the porch steps.

“What are you doing here, amigo?” The new guy questions, taking off his jacket and tossing it in his car before slamming the door.

“Stay there,” Steve murmurs over his shoulder so only I can hear. He then turns to face Billy and takes steps forward. “I could ask you the same thing, _amigo_.”

“Looking for my stepsister. A little birdie told me she was here.” He says, cigarette hanging from his mouth.

“Huh, that’s weird, I don’t know her.” Steve lies.

“Small? Redhead? Bit of a bitch?” Billy prompts, and I glare at his condescending description.

“Doesn’t ring a bell. Sorry, buddy.” Steve responds. Billy sighs, agitated.

“You know, I don’t know, this, this whole situation, Harrington, I don’t know,” Even from a distance I can see Billy getting pissed off. “It’s giving me the heebie-jeebies.”

“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?” Steve questions. Billy takes a drag of his cigarette.

“My thirteen year old sister goes missing all day, and then I find her with _you_ , and your _new whore_ , in a _stranger’s_ house,” The asshole says, blowing out smoke. “And you _lie_ to me about it.”

“Man, were you dropped too much as a child, or what?” Steve’s voice is suddenly far more hostile. “I don’t know what you don’t understand about what I just said. She’s not here.”

Billy leans close to Steve and said something too low for me to here, but he points at the house and Steve turns around. Lo and behold, all the kids are watching from the windows.

Goddamn it.

I turn back to see Billy shove Steve to the ground and kick him whilst he’s down. Naturally, I make a move towards my friend, but Billy harshly grabs my wrist as he strides past.

“ _Steve_!” I call out, worried more about him and the kids than I am for myself at that moment.

“Well, well, well. Lucas Sinclair, what a surprise.” Billy’s grip on me tightens as he stares down the young boy and I try to pull away. He turns to his sister. “I thought I told you to stay away from him, Max.”

“Billy, go away.” Max tries, but to no avail.

“Get the _fuck_ off of me and away from them, Hargrove.” I threaten, nails digging into his arm as I try to pry myself free.

“You disobeyed me, and you know what happens when you disobey me,” Billy growls. “I break things.”

In a split second, the aggressor has Lucas pinned to the wall, his voice low but his threats clear. Dustin, Max, and Mike scream at Billy to stop. I still stand in the entrance hall, taken aback from the sudden change, my wrist throbbing where he grasped me.

I start to move towards the mullet-haired asshole, desperate to help Lucas, but a familiar hand on my shoulder stops me.

“I said get off of me!” Lucas yells, kneeing Billy where it hurts the most. Billy grunts, and releases him.

“You are so dead, Sinclair!” Billy shouts, enraged. “You’re _dead_.”

“No, you are.”

The relief I feel when Steve spins Billy around and decks him is immeasurable.

I seize the opportunity to get Lucas and the other kids behind me, biting my lip as I watch Steve shake out his hand.

“Looks like you’ve got some fire in you after all, huh?” Billy laughs, blood dripping from his nose. “I’ve been waiting to meet this _King Steve_ everybody’s been telling me so much about!”

“Get out.” Steve warns, voice low and dangerous as he pushes Billy just slightly.

Billy looks at him for a moment, incredulous, and takes the chance to take a swing at him. Steve sees this coming, ducking and landing another punch on the Hargrove prick, sending him stumbling back.

“Yes! Kick his ass, Steve!” Dustin hollers.

“Get him!” Mike calls out, the rest of the kids cheering alongside him.

Steve continues to push back Billy with each hit, knocking him into the sink.

This takes a turn for the worse, and I watch as Billy’s hand finds a plate left out on the counter.

“Steve, watch out!” I yell. The plate comes crashing down on Steve’s head, sending ceramic shards flying.

I pull the kids out of the way, fearful as Billy knocks Steve back into the bookshelf, now having the advantage. Steve takes steps back into the living room as Billy approaches, grabbing him by his jacket.

“No one tells me what to do!” Billy headbutts Steve, sending him down to the floor.

My stomach drops and my heart races as Billy pummels Steve.

I push the kids back, adrenaline rushing, and take action. With all his attention focused on beating Steve, I come up behind Billy, thread my hand through his hair, and pull. He stops throwing punches, and gets off of Steve entirely as I tug harder, dragging him away.

“Let go, you crazy bitch!” Billy snarls, standing up. He’s taller than me for sure, but I out of the corner of my eye I notice Max grab a syringe and I know I just need to distract her shitty stepbrother for a couple more moments.

And so I yank once more. Furious, Billy twists around, elbowing me in the jaw, but my bruise comes at the cost of a small clump of his hair. This is something I realise when a tendril of his hair is still in my hand, no longer attached to his head.

There’s murder in his eyes as he glares down at me. If looks could kill, I’d be dead by now.

I take a step back as he approaches me, and find myself backed against the wall. I can feel bruises forming on my wrist and jaw, and I can see how bad a state Steve is in from here. I clench my jaw and swallow thickly, preparing for the worst.

But Billy stops.

He seems a bit preoccupied by the syringe his sister has jabbed into his neck.

He falls to the ground, and I practically slide across the floor the where Steve lies unconscious, barely paying attention to Max screaming her brother. I let her. God knows he’s terrorised her and her friends enough.

And so I sit on the ground, Steve’s head in my lap as I come to a choice as to what to do next.

“Any of you think you can clean him up while I drive us to the tunnels?” I ask the kids in defeat. It’s just best to get away from Billy right now.

“You stitched up your own leg, you should help him.” Dustin points out, and I sigh, knowing he’s right.

“I can drive.” Max speaks up, Billy’s car keys held in her hand. I frown, thinking of all the ways that could go wrong, and sigh again.

“God, Steve’s gonna hate me for letting this plan happen.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> looks like this is the last chapter. All that is to follow is the epilogue now

I tap my foot nervously, glancing down at Steve every couple moments or so. I’d cleaned away the blood and covered the cuts with antiseptic cream and plasters - rainbow ones, at Dustin’s insistence - where I could, and now hold an icepack to his head as I recklessly allow Max to drive us to our destination.

“Y/N?” The battered boy murmurs up at me, his voice nasal. He groans, lifting his hand to his face to rub.

“No, don’t touch it.” I tell him, pushing his hand away. He turns his head, taking in the sight of Dustin smiling reassuringly.

“Hey, buddy,” Dustin says softly. “It’s okay, you put up a good fight. He kicked your ass, but you put up a good fight. You’re okay.”

In the front, Lucas has open a map and is giving Max directions. “What’s going on?” Steve slurs, distracting Max momentarily. Realising the situation, he begins to push himself up, eyes widening.

“Relax, she’s driven before.” Dustin reassures him.

“Yeah, in a parking lot.” Mike criticises.

Steve repeats his mumbles of ‘oh my God’ while Dustin tries to get him to calm down. Max accelerates.

“Woah, stop the car! Slow down!” Steve insists, pushing himself against the back of the seat. Mike starts shouting too, complaining about him as Steve continues to panic.

“Everyone, shut up!” I snap, mainly aimed at Mike and Steve.

“I need to focus!” Max yells, backing my words. Lucas suddenly shouts, giving Max a sudden direction, and the car swerves around the corner, knocking over a mail box on the way. Screams fill the car through the sharp turn, everyone finding something to cling onto as we’re thrown off balance. Max grips the steering wheel tight, while Mike and Lucas brace themselves against the corners between their seats and the doors. Steve and I clutch each other as Dustin holds onto us too.

Max doesn’t stop until she reaches a hole in the middle of an upturned field, jolting us all forward as she breaks.

“I told you: Zoomer.” She says, a hint of pride in her voice. She’s quick to get out, while the rest of us take a few deep breaths and try to regulate our heart rates.

By the time Steve stumbles out of the car, the rest of us have already grabbed our gear from the trunk.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going? Hey, what are you, deaf? Hello?” Steve demands an answer as Mike walks by, completely ignoring him. “We are not going down there right now, I made myself clear! Hey, there is no chance we are going into that hole, alright?”

“Steve,” I speak up, only Dustin and I remaining by the boot of the car. “You’re upset. We get it - _I_ get it - okay? But-”

“The bottom line is, a party member requires assistance, and it is _our_ duty to provide that assistance.” Dustin tells Steve, determined.

“Listen, you’re still injured-” I say, bringing my hand up and cupping Steve’s face, brushing my thumb lightly over his cheek.

“And you’re _not_?” Steve scoffs, leaning into my palm, referring to my stitched up leg.”

“And you can wait for us up here if need be,” I continue, rolling my eyes before finishing earnestly. “ _But_ , if you want to help, it’d mean a lot.”

“Mushy shit between you two aside,” Dustin breaks in. Steve cracks a smile, and I drop my hand, shaking my head, amused. “I know you promised Nance you would keep us safe, so,” Dustin pushes a bag into Steve’s arms, a familiar spiked baseball bat sticking out the side. “Keep us safe.”

Steve sighs and takes the bag.

Goggles over eyes and bandanas covering faces, Steve, Dustin, and I drop down into the tunnels. Mike calls out to the group, shining a flashlight on a map. The kid tries to start walking off, but Steve stops him.

“Woah, woah, woah, hey, hey, hey, hey! I don’t think so.” Steve raises his voice.

“What?” Mike responds, still on the defensive.

“Any of you little shits die down here, I’m getting the blame. Got it, dipshit?” I make a face at Steve’s words, certain I’d also be held accountable. He shines a light at Mike and takes the map. “From here on out, I’m leading the way. Come on, let’s go.”

We quickly stray from the faint light given by the entrance as we push further into the tunnel system. It’s dark and damp, and white flecks stay suspended in the air.

All in all, it’s an unpleasant atmosphere.

We walk into a small room from which multiple tunnels lead out, and we slow for a moment. “God, what is this place?” Max asks, not expecting an answer.

“Guys, come on. Keep moving.” Steve says, walking on.

We don’t get far before we hear a shrill shriek from behind us, and we’re quick to realise Dustin has fallen behind. We rush back towards where Dustin is screaming, only to find him pretty much fine.

“It’s in my mouth! Some got in my mouth! Shit!” Dustin screams as Steve bursts forward to help him. The kid coughs on his hands and knees, before spitting and taking a deep breath. “I’m okay.”

His false alarm is met with mumbled complaints as we turn our attention back to the task at hand.

From there on out, a few twists and turns later, we find ourselves emerging into a cavern in which Steve stops. “Alright, Wheeler,” He says, addressing Mike. “I think we found your hub.”

And thus we set to work dousing the room in every flammable liquid we could get our hands on. The ground, the walls, the ceiling - it’s all drenched. The smell is strong, but the pain the Mind-Flayer will feel is stronger.

When every last drop is emptied out, we ditch the containers and trace our steps a safe distance. “Alright, you ready?” Steve asks the group, to which the response is a positive. Steve flicks open the lighter and pauses, looking over at me where I crouch next to him. “We are in such deep shit.”

And so Steve throws the lighter as far as he can, and it all goes up in flames.

The cavern itself seems to scream.

For a few moments, we’re enraptured by the angry fire, but soon remember what’s coming, and turn tail and run through the hellish maze.

We follow Steve as he once again takes the lead, glancing down at the map in his hand at each intersection, keeping up the pace. It’s fine for a while, but a thump and Mike’s cries for help are quick to halt us all.

Steve swoops in, beating the coiled limb sprouting from the tunnel until it releases Mike’s leg. We help him stand, but turn around only to find that our path has been blocked.

The demodog snarls and we go quiet. Steve raises his bat, putting a hand on Dustin’s shoulder to try and pull him back, but the kid speaks up, addressing the creature. “Dart,” The curly haired boy takes a step forward, shushing our hushed demands telling him to stop what he’s doing. “Hey, it’s me, it’s me. It’s just your friend, it’s Dustin. It’s Dustin alright?”

We watch, terrified as Dustin pulls back his makeshift mask, kneeling by the monster. The demodog screeches, but it doesn’t deter Dustin’s murmured reassurances. From his bag, he pulls out a chocolate bar, offering it to the beast. To my surprise, it goes ahead and eats it, paying no mind to Dustin as he gestures for us to pass by.

Dart looks back at us just once as Dustin says a final goodbye. We’ve passed that threat, and immediately take off back down the tunnels, rushing to make it to the exit before the demodogs come after us for setting the fire.

The tunnels suddenly shudder, distant roars echoing throughout. “What was that?” Max questions, but we all know what it was.

“They’re coming! Go! Go!” Mike shouts from behind us, and we sprint for the rope hanging just ahead of us.

Steve and I quickly set to work getting the kids out of the tunnels, one by one giving each of them a boost to get out. First Max, then Lucas, then Mike.

The tunnel begins to rumble, the roars getting too close. Our time is up. Steve and I exchange a quick look and force Dustin up and out of the tunnel before taking an offensive stance. “Shit.” Steve mumbles, taking a step just in front of me. The kids scream and yell at us from above, desperately trying to get us out.

The shadows of the approaching creatures dance on the walls as the begin to round the corner.

I close my eyes as Steve pulls me into a close, protective embrace.

We brace for the worst.

The moments that pass are painstaking.

But the moment of death doesn’t come.

I crack open my eyes, seeing the rush of demodogs pass us by, snarling and snapping. In near disbelief, I pull back my goggles and tug down my bandana, as though they were constructing my view of the truth. They aren’t. We’re still alive.

“Holy shit.” I murmur, laughing weakly. Steve’s arm is still wrapping securely around me, as if he’s preventing me from being swept away by the crowd. As the adrenaline pumps through my veins, I take a deep breath and sigh, resting my head against Steve’s head, trying to calm myself down. I can hear his heart pounding, reassuring me that despite his confidence, he’s terrified too.

The charging creatures are soon gone, but we don’t move, the seconds ticking by as we take a moment to process what just happened.

“Alright, you’re alive, now break it up!” Dustin shouts down to us.

“We need to get back!” Mike calls down, his mind clearly on Eleven.

Steve gives me a boost out of the tunnel before it’s my turn to pull him out. We stagger to our feet, jeans covered in dirt and hands still shaking.

The headlights from the car shine brighter and brighter on our group, blindingly so as we cover our eyes, until the light suddenly dims. We pause, frowning momentarily at the car as a feeling of finality washes over us.

It’s over.

Steve drives us all back to the Byer’s household. The journey is full of quiet contemplation as we reflect on these recent events, exhaustion finally catching up to us. Strange to think how, if I hadn’t happened to end up in the junkyard during a meaningless walk, I wouldn’t have experienced any of this. I wouldn’t have been injured, I wouldn’t have been scared out of my mind, I wouldn’t have dealt things only the worst of nightmares could conjure up.

Surprisingly, I find myself grateful I took that walk.

I glance at the rearview mirror, catching sight of the kids piled in the back seat. Max and Lucas lean up against each other, hands intertwined. Mike sits between Dustin and them, staring ahead, a faint frown etched upon his forehead. Dustin’s elbow is propped up, supporting his head as he watches out the window.

I glance beside me, to the driver’s seat. Steve’s gaze is set in front of him, but he looks over at me. We exchange a small smile before returning our sights to the road ahead.

It doesn’t stop him taking my hand for the rest of the journey, though.

As we pull up to the Byers’ home, I take only vague notice of the fact that everyone else has already arrived back. Stepping out of the car, I tap on the backseat window, waking up the half-asleep kids.

Mike spots Hopper’s car immediately and practically pushes Dustin out of the way as he sprints into the house. Steve slings his arm around my shoulders and, tired, I instinctively lean into him, my arm finding a place around him too. The rest of the kids walk alongside us, Max sticking to my side as she continues to hold Lucas’s hand, and Dustin being pulled in by Steve.

“What happened?” Nancy immediately questions as we step into the living room. I break away from Steve as the kids notice Will and Eleven and rush over to them.

“Are you okay?” Joyce asks, taking in the sight of us. Where she and everyone else just look kind of sweaty, I realise we’re still bloodied, bruised, covered in dirt, and decorated with goggles and bandanas.

Steve and I give our reluctant but honest explanation, relieved when we aren’t met with scorn. Rather, they understand the actions we took, even if they weren’t entirely favourable.

Jonathan and Steve leave, and I notice the lingering look Jonathan and Nancy give one another. As the two boys go to haul Billy’s still-unconscious body to his car and drive him into to town, Nancy takes me aside.

“I feel like there are some other things we should catch up on.” She starts, indirectly addressing the subject. I crack a small smile.

“You mean how you and Jonathan skipped town for a couple days?” I ask, brow raised. My friend averts her gaze, and I laugh lightheartedly. “Hey, I don’t think I actually told you when we spoke earlier, but for what it’s worth, I think you and Jonathan make a good couple.”

“Thanks,” Nancy says, watching the cars drive away through the window, taking a deep breath. She swallows, turning back to me. “So, you and Steve?”

“Ah, that,” I chuckle. “I don’t know, really. I’ve spent the entirety of this... _thing_ with him, but, yeah, I don’t know.”

“Nothing like shared trauma to bring people together.” Nancy says, a ghost of a smile on her lips as she seems to reflect on something.

“Nothing like shared trauma.” I repeat her words, letting out a small laugh.

A silence settles between us shortly as I take a moment to think, biting my lip.

“I don’t know what’ll happen with Steve, but, hey,” I shrug, my next words holding an unfamiliar, but not unwelcome weight to them.

_“Stranger things have happened.”_


	5. Epilogue

I pull up to the school, Max in the seat beside me. Blue lights strobe through the windows of the gymnasium while the sound of muffled music reaches our ears. Yellow fairy lights illuminate the Snow Ball banner.

“Alright, you ready?” I ask the younger girl. Despite it being a formal dance, she’s dressed moderately casually, aside from the hair her mother braided and clipped back. Dressier than her usual style, but still opting for colourful jeans instead of a dress, she was still looking very ‘Max’.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” She shrugs, bumping my fist with her own before opening the door and climbing out of the car.

“Have a good time! I’ll see you later!” I call out after her, before driving the car into a parking spot.

Within a few minutes, I’m already bored. I huff, feet propped up on the dash, tapping impatiently, trying to think of something to do. I glance at the rear-view mirror, hearing the sound of somebody else pulling up the dance, and catch sight of a familiar vehicle. I watch for a moment, barely able to see the back of the driver’s head in the dusk, but when a rather styled Dustin steps out of the car, I quickly start get out of my own and head on over.

Through the doors to the gymnasium, you can spot Nancy serving the kids drinks. It’s takes barely a second for it to click that this is where Steve gazes to, but he seems to shake his head of those thoughts and turns to drive away when I lean down to tap on his window. The guy jumps out of his skin and gives me a look.

“Fancy seeing you here.” I say, grinning as him as he winds down the window.

“You gave me a heart attack.” Steve replies, trying to look unamused but failing miserably.

“You make it so easy,” I tease, and he rolls his eyes. “I see you continue to be Dustin’s mentor.”

“He’s a good kid,” He says with a shrug. “What are you doing here?”

“Dropped off Max.” I answer simply.

“You have any plans right now?” Steve asks.

“I’m bored out of my mind.” I say truthfully, earning a smile from him.

“C’mon, get in.” He tells me, nodding at the passenger seat of his car. I grin, making my way to the other side and sliding inside.

Rather than driving away, Steve parks the car. “Can’t go too far.” He says, jerking a thumb in the direction of the gymnasium.

“You are such a mother hen.” I joke.

We chat idly for a few minutes, until the familiar tune of Time After Time by Cyndi Lauper reaches our ears. Our conversation pauses.

“Not gonna lie-“

“Do you wanna-“

Steve and I say simultaneously, laughing almost embarrassedly as we stop.

“Uh, you go first.” Steve offers.

“It’s kinda stupid, but I kind of want to dance?” I say, weirdly nervous. Steve laughs, sounding relieved, and grins at me.

“Good, ‘cause I was just about to ask if you wanted to.”

The December night is cold compared to the warmth of the car. Rather than standing an arms-distance apart in true school-dance style, Steve and I are close as we sway to the muffled song.

“So, how’s life been since the whole, y’know, _thing_?” I ask, trying to spark a conversation again.

“You’ve seen me nearly everyday since, Y/N.” Steve says amusedly.

“I’m being _polite_.” I retort, scrunching my nose at him. He chuckles as we continue to sway to the music

I ask another question, this time softer.

“How are things between you and Nancy?” Steve sighs at my words, but doesn’t brush off the question.

“It hurt - it still kinda does - but she’s happier now,” He answers, melancholic. He seems to contemplate how to continue. “I think I found someone better for me, anyway.”

“Who?” Curiosity killed the cat.

“Well, she just agreed to dance with me at this cheesy Snow Ball.” Huh. Well, the full saying ends with ‘satisfaction brought it back’.

“In that case, I wish you two the very best.” I say, grinning up at Steve. He returns it with a look of affection before pressing his lips to mine.


End file.
